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Thursday, February 11, 2010

February is strawberry season?

Growing up strawberries were a fruit I associated with summer, because they didn't start popping their little red heads out until usually the end of June. We had strawberry plants the grew wild around the corners of our house, and it was always a mad dash to catch the sweet little fruits before they were discovered by the neighborhood birds and rabbits.

Now I've heard of this "global warming" threat, and how it's changing the seasons and weather and all that good junk, so that's the only reason I can find to explain why all of a sudden my supermarkets are TEAMING with strawberries. Just wait, I know I'll get one smarty pants trying to tell me that the strawberries are probably shipped in from Venezuela, or some equally tropic locale. But friends, if I've said it once, I've said it a hundred times - I live in the LAND of strawberries. No need to ship it in when they grow locally here. And these are all local strawberries I'm talking about.

I have a feeling that there's a high correlation between strawberry sales and a certain holiday marked by roses and red colored hearts which could also explain the sudden influx of sweet red berries. I'm no fool (debatable) so I scooped up 4lbs. (Yes, that's not a typo, I picked up a shitton of strawberries) this past week. And now I'm using them in just about everything. Stay tuned for the sweet treat Thatboy's and my coworkers enjoyed in honor of Valentine's Day.

I love strawberries for breakfast, and in drinks, but I especially love them for dessert. I could be ever so happy with a big bowl of sliced and rinsed strawberries. But when Thatboy asks "what's for dessert?" and I tell him "fruit" he gets this strange look of confusion across his face. (It's similar to the look he gets when I inform him his choices for dessert include nuts, raisins, or popcorn.) Because it's not enough to just have fruit. No dessert must have some form of extra sugar added in, otherwise it's (shudder) healthy.

And so we come to the fruit pizza. Not my idea, obviously. It's a trick moms across the world have used for centuries to get their little ones to eat more fruit. By placing the fruit on something that looks and sounds way worse for you than it is. I'm sure Napolean's mother enticed him to eat his fruit in the same way. "Please Napolean, eat your fruit, it will make you big and strong." (As a side note, this discussion is probably why the young Bonaparte might have had some feelings of resentment towards sa mere.)